


Constants in Change

by Soapbubblesoul



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Husbands, Insecurity, M/M, Married Couple, Support, Unconventional Presents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9937562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soapbubblesoul/pseuds/Soapbubblesoul
Summary: Yifan is determined to make their fifth Christmas together as a couple memorable for Yixing, uncaring of the hindrances life has thrown at them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paradisekiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradisekiss/gifts).



> I am so so so so sorry about how late this is, Karina. It ended up being way longer than I expected, and I'm afraid there's too much fluff and too little angst but I hope you'll still like it! Merry (very very belated) Christmas!
> 
> Warning: Lots of medical inaccuracies; Anterograde amnesia does not work like depicted in this fic, I know, but for the sake of the prompt and the plot I decided to take some creative liberties

Yifan is on his second cup of coffee already when the sound of an opening door makes him look up. Yixing stands in the doorway, hair dishevelled. When he starts stepping into the room, he does so tentatively, as if he expects people to jump out from behind the furniture, shouting "Surprise! We got you, didn't we?" or as if he expects the ground to give way beneath his feet. The elder is very well accustomed to that look, so he simply smiles at Yixing just like he always does and waits for the other to start his stumbling questioning. Yifan is ready to explain whatever the younger might want to know, calmly and patiently, even if he might feel like a broken record, playing the same song day after day.

"You-" Yixing starts, his eyes fixing on Yifan's hair but his voice ebbs into silence as he comes to a halt right beside the seated male, looking down at him in wonderment as his hand lifts up to gently card into the white strands. Yifan's eyes close automatically, a low hum of approval vibrating in his throat as he leans into the touch.

It's been the same ritual pretty much every morning for the last few months, ever since Yifan finally dared to go ahead and dye his hair a different colour. He vividly remembers how Yixing had sat him down one morning, asking him how it was possible for one and a half years to have passed with Yifan still having got the same hair colour and style. Yifan had chuckled as if Yixing had made a joke at the expense of his ever-changing hairstyle. He expected it to be a one time thing for Yixing to notice, but the younger one mentioned it again the next day, and the day after that. The matter evidently was of enough concern for him that he had written himself a reminder to ask Yifan about it until the elder eventually did schedule a hairdresser appointment.

"It looks good," Yixing speaks quietly, almost as if he is still grappling with the reality of the situation, "It suits you."

When the younger tries to withdraw his hand, Yifan catches it in his, guiding it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the palm. "Thank you."

The gesture draws Yixing's attention to the subtle golden band wrapped around Yifan's ring finger, a matching one dangling from a slender chain around his own neck. The dusting of red adorning Yixing's cheeks is the same as always, and like each morning, Yifan is in love.

__

To say it's not tough would be a lie.

They met for the first time in winter, one week after Yifan's birthday party, when Yixing ran into Yifan and sent the elder’s homework flying all over the campus. The next fifteen minutes following their collision were spent chasing after elusive paper, leaving them both slightly breathless once they had gathered all the pages. Yixing immediately insisted on taking Yifan out for coffee as an apology when he noticed how many pages had been ruined by the snow (Yifan kept explaining that those were only copies of his original work and that he could simply print them out again but his insistence that everything was fine fell on deaf ears).

Yixing had only just started university back then.

When they first started dating, Yixing was in his last year and Yifan had freshly graduated, looking into finding a job as a fashion designer while Yixing strove to become a successful songwriter who would be able to write for the big names in the Chinese entertainment industry one day.

Neither of them made a lot of money in the beginning but it didn't matter much because neither of them cared much for meaningless luxury like eating out at expensive restaurants or watching movies in cinema. As long as they had a roof above their heads and food to fill their bellies, they were happy. Both of their careers called for hard work, for many sleepless nights and frustration, and countless setbacks before the silver lining of success would appear in their field of vision. Hardships are part of the path of life, Yixing used to whisper when they laid together at night, their bodies closely entwined, they pave the way for success because they help us grow. Yifan never could tell whether the words were supposed to be for his ears or whether Yixing repeated them like a mantra night after night to keep himself going. Deciding that it didn't matter much which of the two it was, Yifan would always draw Yixing closer to press a soft kiss to the top of his head.

What neither of them knew back then was that little time to spend with each other, constant blows to their self-confidence at having their work rejected, flares of temper from both of them and a tight monthly budget wouldn't be the toughest hardship their relationship would have to endure, far from it.

As is the nature of accidents, neither of them saw it coming. Yifan often reels with the thought of how their whole life changed in a tenth of a second—the tenth of a second it took for the ladder to slip away beneath Yixing while the younger was trying to reach a book on the highest shelf in the library. Yifan still vividly remembers the call that made his heart stop as he dropped everything to rush to the hospital.

For almost two weeks, Yifan barely ate more than one meal a day, everything tasted like dust as he was being kept awake by the horribly bitter coffee from the hospital's cafeteria rather than any decent amount of sleep. The hospital staff forced him to leave every night but returning to the flat he shared with Yixing was out of the question, the very thought made Yifan feel sick. So he crashed on Luhan's couch, the elder’s place being the closest to the hospital out of all those who had offered Yifan shelter and support. But every single meter he was away from Yixing was a knife buried deep into his flesh and the only sleep he found was filled with nightmares that he woke from drenched in sweat, his throat raw from screaming.

Never before had time passed as slowly as it did while Yifan sat at Yixing's bedside, his beloved's head wrapped in white and his skin a sickly pale colour, setting apart the blue and purple bruises in a grotesque manner. And never before had Yifan been more afraid. For almost two weeks, Yifan feared for another life more than he'd ever done for his own.

He lost over ten pounds and gained unruly stubble on his chin by the time Yixing’s brown eyes blinked open sleepily. Finally, the rock that had been crushing his ribcage got lifted and allowed him a breath that turned into a sob as soon as the initial shock wore off. The relief was too much for his exhausted self to take and he broke down in Yixing's mother's arms outside of the hospital room while the doctors checked up on Yixing.

Thinking that they both had passed the trial some higher power had imposed on them, Yifan spent the day in a haze, holding Yixing's hand close to his heart and pressing tender kisses to fingers which tightened their grip slightly in appreciation of the gesture, plump lips stretching into a fond smile. The elation lasted exactly until the next morning, when Yixing woke up asking Yifan once more where he was, and what had happened. Putting it down to Yixing being half asleep, Yifan explained that he was still at the hospital but Yixing continued to look at him with a blank stare before his eyes widened in an exact copy of the expression of shock and disbelief he had displayed the previous day.

With the pungent smell of disinfectant stinging his nose and the beeping of an ICU monitor reverberating in his ears, Yifan realized that their life had been changed forever.

In their fourth year of dating, Yifan spent many nights alone on the couch in their living room with his knees drawn to his chest as he hugged his legs, the sharp tang of bourbon clinging to his tongue; the cup on the table still half full. He never drank enough to get drunk, only enough to numb him a little, hoping to hold the bitterness at bay that was blossoming inside his chest and threatening to consume him. In these nights, his mind was stuck with the thought that life is not fair. Someone as gentle, as good and hard working as Yixing didn't deserve this.

"Perhaps that's the very reason why this happened, though." Yixing didn't face Yifan, only tightening his hold on the arm that was thrown over his shoulders. He cuddled closer to his boyfriend's side for warmth, legs thrown over Yifan's lap. Outside the window, snowflakes were dancing against the dark backdrop of the nightly city scenery. "Perhaps we're being tested because they know we're strong enough to make it through this. Perhaps someone has to carry this burden, and we've been chosen because we can take it."

No, Yixing didn’t deserve this, and Yifan whispered as such into the side of the other's neck as he nuzzled close, uncaring of the little shudder it sent through Yixing's body. The younger male shifted until he could tuck Yifan's head under his chin. Yifan never wanted Yixing to feel the need to comfort _him,_ even if his moment of weakness would be forgotten by the smaller male the next morning _._ Yixing was strong and Yifan owed it to him to be strong as well, to be even stronger. Yet, he balled his fists into the back of Yixing's sweatshirt as the fabric of it soaked up his tears of frustration on Yixing's behalf, tears Yixing refused to shed himself.

For all the strength Yixing exhibits, Yifan knows very well how much the condition affects the younger. It isn't just that for Yixing, waking up always is like opening his eyes for the first time after a time travel. Every morning, Yixing's reality shifts 180 degrees and the younger is left having to adjust to a completely new situation while also catching up on everything he missed. There often are days when Yixing feels like everything around him is moving too fast and he's left feebly lagging behind.

Yifan tries to support Yixing the best he can whenever the other is going through a rough time. He is there when the younger misses a hairdresser appointment, when he doesn't find the soup he's looking for since the supermarket has rearranged their layout or when he sees that his favourite artist has released three new singles he never heard of before. He is there when Yixing feels overwhelmed by everything that has changed without his knowledge and he flees home because of it, refusing to leave their flat because the world that's supposed to be familiar to him feels completely foreign. However, over the course of two years and with multiple iterations, they have figured out a system that keeps Yixing afloat most of the time.

A lot of people call their smartphone their brain, their second memory. For Yixing, it is not just an exaggeration. With the help of alarms, reminders and various lists, the musician manages to keep track of everything he deems worth remembering and special days he needs to pay attention to. This way Yixing can keep track of the reality that's always changing around him, and he can travel to other places, can know when Yifan is sick and will need extra care and when he still has to pick out a birthday present for his mother. At the same time he jots down everything personal, memories that he wants to keep, in a handwritten diary (the inspiration for that one having come from a movie that left them with mixed feelings, both unable to decide whether it hit too close to home or whether that was exactly the reason why it was perfect for them.)

It enables Yixing to live his everyday life almost normally, to plan far ahead into the future even if he will wake up the next morning having forgotten those plans. He might not be perfectly up to date with everything, pop-culture reference often prompting him to tilt his head to the side with a look of confusion painted across his face, but it works well enough. It took them time to adjust but now, roughly two years after the accident, they have mostly come to terms with it. They have worked out the kinks in the system, and Yifan has mostly gotten used to everything that Yixing's condition brings with it. Except for one point.

Ever since they met, it has been obvious to Yifan that ambition is both Yixing's biggest strength and his biggest weakness. It is the power that lifts him up and the weight that drags him down. And while Yixing is always strangely serene and accepting whenever they talk about his anterograde amnesia, Yifan sees how the younger’s professional ambitions eat away at him. Yixing always tries his hardest, wants to create the best results, but Rome wasn't built in a day, and the same applies to Yixing's work. He still composes but Yifan has heard him slam his laptop shut in frustration more than once, notices him stare out the window with unfocused eyes while nursing a hot chocolate—his favourite comfort food—after he opened one of his incomplete files.

The fear that his condition means he will never achieve anything in life, that his goals of one day composing for the people he idolizes will forever be out of reach because everytime he opens his incomplete compositions, he looks at them for the first time, eats away at Yixing. It's not as if he doesn't complete any of his works but Yifan knows very well that what the younger worries about is not that he doesn't get anything done, but that he doesn't get better, that he can't learn and improve anymore.

Yixing has always been self-critical and Yifan tries his best to assure his husband that his worries are unwarranted, that he's strong and will pull through this, that his works are good and getting better, but he knows there's only so much his words will be able to accomplish.

__

Yifan cares about Christmas, a lot. Yixing likes it, all the hot chocolates, mulled wine, Christmas songs, candles and homely warmth associated with it while the outdoor temperatures drop lower and lower. But while Yixing appreciates the time of the year, he isn't overly attached to it. For Yifan, however, Christmas is one of the festivities that hold the biggest emotional meaning to him, one that shouts "family" for him just as loud as the Chinese New Year does. He reasons that his years spent in Canada have left him with a craving for a cozy Christmas. Yixing has always been more than happy to indulge him, quickly developing the same attachment to the holiday as Yifan's excitement filtered through to him.

Over the years, they have come up with their shared rituals for Christmas. On Christmas Eve, they go grocery shopping together in the morning, picking up all the ingredients they need to cook dinner in the evening. It's never a big, fancy meal with a dozen courses, most years they keep it rather simple but they always prepare it together, so their Christmas Eve dinner always holds special meaning to them either way. As soon as they've come home and all the groceries have been stored away, they'll cuddle together on the couch for a little downtime, Yifan reading a book while Yixing hums along to either his own compositions or some of his favourite artists, recharging a bit of energy before they head out again for a round of ice skating.

Yifan might be amazing at basketball but sports that call for a good sense of balance are definitely not his cup of tea. His tall figure serves as quite the head-turner and it's the reason his husband first noticed him so Yifan doesn't mind too much that he has troubles finding sweaters with sleeves that cover his wrists, or pants that don't show off his ankles. But when he is on the ice with blades secured beneath his feet, his lanky build turns into quite the disadvantage. Yixing however loves ice skating, has gone to frozen lakes with skates slung over his shoulders ever since he was a child and Yifan loves Yixing, so if ice skating makes him happy, the elder will gladly make a fool of himself while attempting to keep up.

There's a seasonal ice skating rink a 15 minutes subway ride from their flat and while they tend to head to frozen lakes other times of the year, Christmas Eve is an exception. Yifan doesn't exactly remember why that is, but it started before they were dating, back when they were just friends from university.

As soon as they return, tired but happy from the exertion and the cold winter air, they'd get started with cooking to make sure everything is ready in time for dinner. After the food has been devoured, they’d put on Christmas carols and settle in the living room for a round of Monopoly, the stakes being the right to open the first present on Christmas Day.

Little parts about their ritual change every year but in general they are both fairly happy with how they've worked out their Christmas.

This year, however, is their fifth Christmas as a couple, and their second since Yixing's accident, and Yifan wants to make it a special day for the younger.

__

Christmas Eve finds Yifan waking more than half an hour before his alarm. The world outside the windows is still drenched in darkness, but Yifan doesn't feel like crawling deeper under the warm duvet, even with his husband's soft skin to cuddle closer to. The faint illumination from the streetlights shining through their curtains and his eyes that are still adjusted to the dark allow Yifan to trace the lines of the younger's features. Ever since they first started dating, Yifan has loved to watch Yixing sleep. He often wondered whether it was creepy or romantic or whether there was just a thin line between those two either way that was frequently crossed without either of them noticing.

However, over the last two years, Yifan struggled with regaining his appreciation for the other's sleeping form. For endless months, the younger's slumber had not evoked feelings of warmth in Yifan. It hadn't been linked to the satisfaction of seeing Yixing rest or the intimacy and openness of Yixing's expression when he was asleep, completely unguarded. Instead, there had been an incessant voice in the back of Yifan's head that reminded him over and over again that while Yixing looked so at ease, so perfectly peaceful, his mind was being reset to the day of the accident that moved further and further into the past. And Yifan could do nothing but helplessly watch as Yixing slept and forgot.

It took time, like so many other things did, to get used to it and let go of his bitterness. Now, Yifan looks over at his husband with a fond smile on his lips, and the tight nervousness in his stomach settles for a short moment as he lets the tranquility of their silent bedroom and Yixing's soft breathing wash over him. Temptation overwhelms him and even though he really doesn't want to wake Yixing, he leans over to plant a gentle kiss against the other's forehead. His lips barely graze against Yixing's skin but the touch lingers. The smaller male stirs slightly, exhaling in a soft sigh. Yixing has always been a light sleeper, so Yifan is already expecting the silent whining as the other draws the blankets closer around himself while also instinctively moving towards Yifan's touch.

"It's still early, go back to sleep," the elder whispers, his voice barely audible but he knows that Yixing will hear him either way. The other's reply is an unintelligible mumble but a few seconds later, Yixing's breathing has already evened out again. It's one of the things that Yifan is genuinely grateful for, that in his half-asleep state, when Yixing hasn't even opened his eyes yet, Yifan's presence beside him in bed is normal for the younger. After the accident, it took him a while to consider either of them _lucky_ in any regard, but he realised that while Yixing keeps forgetting big chunks of their relationship, he still never forgets _Yifan_.

The elder is so sorely tempted to simply stay in bed even if he won't be able to succumb to the fitful bouts of nervous sleep anymore. It is enough for him to simply watch his sleeping husband until the younger's alarm goes off, but even though the sight of the Yixing's relaxed features makes something settle inside him, Yifan notices the nervousness well up again. With a heavy heart and one last peck pressed against the other's unruly locks, he carefully shifts towards the corner of the mattress to leave the sanctity of their bed while trying not to jostle the younger awake again. He has enough experience with getting out of bed in a way that will leave Yixing undisturbed, so when he tiptoes out of their room the smaller male is still fast asleep. Yifan pauses on the threshold, throwing a last glance back into the dark room. Yixing has moved into the space vacated by the taller, instinctively seeking the faint warmth and Yifan's smell left behind. With a soft smile on his lips, Yifan pulls the door closed behind him before heading towards the kitchen to get the coffee machine started.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, he has gone through every tiny detail of what's planned for today a million times. He has arranged and checked, re-checked and re-re-checked everything over and over again because he can't have anything go wrong. Yet, as soon as he has settled down at the kitchen table, a steaming hot mug of coffee in front of him, he pulls out his phone to read through his emails again, confirming all the details with himself once more.

It doesn't do half as good a job at easing the waves of anxious anticipation and suppressed excitement as Yixing's presence does but it makes Yifan feel a tiny bit less fidgety at least.

__

Yixing's eyes are fixed on the grocery list, and Yifan quietly follows after him while pushing the shopping cart, amazed at the younger's skill to navigate the supermarket aisles blindly, side-stepping product displays and other customers with ease as he weaves his way to the meat section.

A smile plays on Yifan's lips as he follows Yixing's orders to pick up cans from the highest shelves the younger can't reach. Yixing is having a good day, Yifan can tell from the way he's humming Christmas songs under his breath while mentally checking off items from their shopping list.

Even when he realized that they changed the layout of the supermarket ever so slightly, the fresh fruits and vegetables now located where the toiletries used to be and moving the toiletries to the far left, Yixing’s only reaction was to turn towards his husband with questioning eyes, wordlessly asking for guidance that Yifan is more than eager to provide. There was not a single startle, not even a tiny hint that the changes Yixing can't remember happening upset him. It's a relief for Yifan, knowing that the other is in high spirits for the day. Of course he always breathes easier when he knows that Yixing is happy, but today is special in more ways than Yixing knows yet. That is, if Yifan has done his job of secret-keeping well.

His fingers itch to fiddle with the hem of his jacket sleeve but while he manages to suppress the urge, he still catches himself more than once with his lower lip between his teeth, a nervous habit he picked up from Yixing over the years. His success in acting inconspicuous is debatable, especially considering that he keeps checking his watch, even after they’ve returned home and have put the groceries away. He catches Yixing's suspicious gaze, but the younger doesn't broach the topic and so Yifan doesn't either. Instead he prepares two cups of hot cocoa and carries them over to the living room before settling against the backrest of the couch with his tablet.

In order to ensure that nothing goes wrong, he's already taken the subway to their planned destination a few times in the last month. Yet he checks the times again, making sure to keep his screen brightness low. It’s a precautionary measure so that when the younger male settles against Yifan's side, he can't spy what his husband is looking at. Although truthfully, Yifan doesn’t have to worry about trying to conceal his screen when Yixing joins him, carrying his laptop and his headphones to work on his compositions.

In the beginning, Yifan would claim that Yixing never stops working, except that he came to learn early on that that's only half true. Yixing does work a lot, incessantly so, but at the same time he doesn't regard it as work. Even if going over chords and beats might stress him out, he loves doing it, and so it's no surprise at all to the elder that Yixing uses their little downtime before heading out again to go over the tune he's been working on for the last two weeks. A fond smile tugs the corners of Yifan's mouth apart when he hears Yixing hum along to his compositions, as he always does when he’s working on them. Yifan is reasonably sure the younger has no idea of this habit and in Yifan’s lovestruck mind, it only makes it all the more endearing.

As soon as he has verified their train connection, Yifan puts the tablet away. Instead of picking up the book he’s currently reading from the couch table, he shuffles until he can wind his arms around Yixing's waist. Nestled against his husband like this, he rests his chin on the younger’s shoulder and watches Yixing navigate his composition program. Yifan has a rough understanding of what the colourful boxes mean but his knowledge is not in depth enough to actually get what his husband is doing. But he doesn't really care, not with Yixing relaxing into his hold.

The few hours of fitful sleep that night are starting to catch up on him, so Yifan welcomes the opportunity to get a little more rest, dozing in and out of consciousness with Yixing as his pillow. Like this, he can also keep an eye on the clock in the upper right corner of the display without incurring even more suspicion from the younger. When it starts edging towards noon, Yifan reluctantly acknowledges that they should start getting ready soon if they want to head out on time.

Knowing that Yixing won't be able to hear him with his headphones on, too absorbed in the world of his compositions to take note of the time, Yifan doesn't even attempt to verbally get the younger's attention. Instead he tightens his hold around Yixing's middle and nuzzles closer to the other's neck. Yixing squirms slightly, but only hums as if to placate Yifan. Instead of settling and going back to his dozing, Yifan grins slightly before exhaling. It has the desired effect of Yixing twisting in an attempt to get away from Yifan and protect his neck at the same time. He’s not very successful in escaping, considering that Yifan doesn't want to let him get away that easily. When Yifan purposely blows air against the other's sensitive skin, Yixing lets out an involuntary squeak, and reaches up to pull his headphones down so that they hang around his neck, serving as a protection against the elder’s assaults.

"Stop that, Fan!" Yixing chides, but the laugh echoed in his voice takes the threat out of the statement.

Yifan considers moving in to tease the other a bit more, but then he remembers his original plan and instead places a peck against Yixing's cheek, hoping to mellow out the other's—albeit mostly pretend—indignation. "Well how else was I supposed to get your attention? You were so concentrated on your laptop."

Yixing studies him as as if he's torn between exasperation and amusement, settling on the latter. His expression morphs into a grin as he leans up to kiss the pout from Yifan's lips. "How am I supposed to ever get anything done with you around?"

A witty retort is on the tip of his tongue— _I don't care about you getting anything else done as long as you get to do me—_ but he swallows it down in favour of demanding another kiss. "Better be grateful that you have me or you'd be starving on this couch, too caught up in finding the right chord to bother with hunting for food."

They both know it's the truth, so Yixing doesn't even try to argue and instead just sticks out his tongue, prompting Yifan to make a grimace back at the younger before remembering his original intention. “Just wanted to let you know that we need to head out again soon.”

Yixing hums in understanding and turns back to look at his screen. "Give me five more minutes to finish this up, then I'm ready to go."

Ten minutes later, Yifan has changed out of his lounging clothes, has fixed up his hair and is dressed in a plain black jeans and one of the bordeaux sweaters Yixing got him for his birthday the previous year. He knows it to be one of Yixing's favourites on him, and the reaction he gets when he reappears in the doorway is exactly the one he has been hoping for. The younger is still sitting in the same spot as he did when Yifan left the room. It takes him a moment to even realize that Yifan has returned. As soon as he does look up though, his eyes widen slightly before he lets his gaze rake over Yifan from top to bottom in obvious appreciation of the view. The way the younger's tongues darts out to unconsciously wet his lips always is Yifan’s favourite part when he manages to catch his husband’s approving glance. It's not exactly easy to bite back the smug smile but somehow Yifan manages.

"You've dressed up," Yixing notes.

"You should too," Yifan advises.

"What are you up to, Fan?" Yixing narrows his eyes in suspicion. "I doubt that the ice skating rink has a dress code now. And I'll be wearing a coat the whole time either way."

"You will want to look nice. Trust me on that one."

Yifan has ceased all attempts at being subtle about the fact that he has _some_ surprise up his sleeve, but he doesn't plan on showing his hand just yet. He's spent months arranging this day, running through every possible scenario so that everything would be perfect down to the tiniest detail. No matter how much Yixing whines, pouts and bats his eyelashes, Yifan remains steadfast.

__

The restaurant is bright and lively, but the waiter shows them to a table that's set up at the far end, a bit secluded from the bustling lunch rush. It grants them some privacy. Yixing's eyes are darting around the place in obvious wonder, taking in the decor. The smell of fresh pasta is hanging in the air and Yifan is suddenly acutely aware of his empty stomach.

"I already guessed that if you want me to dress up, you will take me out to eat somewhere nice but this place is _really_ fancy," Yixing says as soon as they have settled. "Yifan, we're going to cook a nice dinner later. We're not supposed to go out for lunch." A hint of disapproval tinges Yixing's voice, as if he fears that their Christmas tradition might be in jeopardy.

Yifan reaches across the table to place his hand over Yixing's, hoping to reassure the younger through the touch. "We'll still cook later. And don't worry about the money," he continues, and even though Yixing opens his mouth to deny that that's what he’s thinking about, Yifan knows his husband, "their lunch set is so laughably cheap that I absolutely can't let you see the menu or you won't consider this a fancy meal anymore. So do me the favour and just enjoy it, okay? I promise you'll like it."

For a second, Yifan's words relax the younger but he starts looking around the place as if he's searching for clues. Eventually his gaze settles on Yifan. "Have we been to this place before?"

His voice is void of any suspicion, only genuine curiosity lingering between the words. Yifan is well used to hearing this question, although it's not always asked so innocently. Occasionally—usually when the younger is having a really good time—Yixing accuses him of having a "go to" date, one that Yifan has taken him on over and over again to work out the kinks. Most of the time Yifan can genuinely deny the claim but every so often he'll have to admit with a sheepish laugh that the younger caught him. It's one of the few advantages of Yixing's condition that Yifan has worked out and from sometimes he'll make use of it to provide his husband with a day that's guaranteed to be a success. Yixing never really minds.

"No, you've never been here before. I discovered this place last month by chance and I've been wanting to bring you here ever since," he responds truthfully.

Yifan has ordered a three course menu for them and while Yixing digs in with vigour, his own nervous stomach prevents the taller from fully enjoying the meal. Instead of being able to fully savour the dishes they're being served, Yifan tries to mentally sort out how he's going to reveal his Christmas present to Yixing. Even though the elder is certain that he has done the best he can to make everything perfect, a grain of doubt remains. Should he not have kept it a secret for so long? Will the other be mad that Yifan hasn't given him enough time to prepare? Will he be upset that Yifan organized this without asking him first?

"You look tense. Is something the matter?"

Yixing's voice breaks Yifan from his thoughts. Only then does he realize that he’s grabbing the spoon tighter than necessary. Exhaling, he forces his hand to relax while attempting to divert Yixing's concern with a smile. The other's furrowed forehead tell him that his attempt was unsuccessful so he decides to give up. They have reached dessert by now, so there's no use in dragging it out much longer either way.

"Actually there is something I have to confess," he chuckles nervously, feeling stupid at how queasy his stomach is feeling with anticipation.

Yixing immediately tenses up. He has no trouble recognizing when Yifan is feeling uncomfortable with a certain topic, and, as always, he must be assuming the worst. Even with their wedding ring dangling from his neck, Yixing still has bouts of intense insecurity regarding their relationship; he sees himself as a burden to Yifan and is afraid that one day the elder might not be able to take the strain anymore that Yixing’s amnesia puts on both of them.

Despite the reassurances of Yifan’s wedding vow—the memo of which had been glued to the front page of Yixing’s diary—that no hurdle, no matter how big, would be able to keep him away from Yixing, there still are days when Yixing's insecurity is closer to the surface; Yifan just never expected Christmas Eve to be one of them. He's half inclined to believe that Yixing can't possibly be thinking that Yifan would use this occasion to declare marriage troubles but the younger's tense form prompts him to move his chair halfway around the table so that he's sitting beside the younger rather than opposite of him. Yixing immediately turns to face his husband, instinctively, and Yifan reaches for the other. The elder knows he has big hands, but he still marvels at how small and delicate Yixing's look in his hold, while the touch reveals the subtle callouses on his fingertips formed from pressing against guitar strings. There is a distinct knob at the middle finger of his right hand where Yixing rests his pen whenever he writes.

Yifan expected himself to forget all the words he had conveniently arranged in his mind as soon as he opens his mouth. To his own surprise, he feels his head clear for the first time that day when Yixing meets his gaze. His thumb glides over the back of Yixing's hands in a gentle caress. "Don't worry, it's not bad news. Actually, it's about your Christmas present."

The shift in Yixing's expression is almost comical; his mouth that had been pressed into a thin line opens slightly as his eyes widen and he tilts his head. An involuntary sound of surprise escapes Yixing, and it makes the smile on Yifan's lips widen a fraction before he remembers that the toughest part isn't over yet.

"You see, I didn't want you to dress up for this restaurant," he confesses. "It's rather that I know you'd be mad at me if I were to let you go to your Christmas present in your worn out jeans and a four-year-old sweater."

Yixing listens intently, and Yifan can see the cogs in his head turning. It plays in Yifan's favour that he has taken Yixing to dance performances or concerts for his birthdays, anniversaries or other special occasions before, so he's sure that the other must be expecting something along those lines. He almost feels smug that while Yixing thinks he has an idea what's coming, Yifan is certain he'll manage to catch the younger off guard.

Yet, as much as he is convinced of the value of his present, it's a sensitive topic to broach so Yifan struggles with how to actually start. Yixing curious eyes trained on him aren't really helping much either. Inhaling deeply, Yifan tries to calm his nerves the best he can.

"I brought you to this place because the food is amazing," he starts to explain, pausing slightly for dramatic effect, "but also because it is only one street away from a recording studio."

"A recording studio," Yixing repeats, tasting the words as if they will make more sense when they are rolling from his own tongue. From the way his eyebrows bunch together in equal parts confusion and disbelief, it doesn't seem to help much.

"Yeah, a recording studio," Yifan confirms. And before Yixing gets the chance to open his mouth again, he adds, "A special recording studio."

The furrow of Yixing's eyebrows deepens. Yixing works from their home most of the time but he's no stranger to recording studios. He only has produced a few songs professionally; most of them get recorded in the little spare room they have filled with Yixing's music equipment. Yet, no matter how much Yixing loves his music, there's obvious doubt in his expression about why Yifan would bring him to a place for work on a holiday, and call it a present on top of that.

"How is it special?" Yixing asks nonetheless, humouring Yifan.

The elder takes a deep breath before squeezing Yixing's hands slightly, "It's special because of who it belongs to."

At that, something seems to click with Yixing because suddenly he narrows his eyes in suspicion, "If you bought a recording studio Yifan, so help me god."

"What?" This time it's Yifan's turn to look confused, coming to an abrupt halt as he tries to process what Yixing just said. Then he breaks into laughter, "No. No, no, no, it's not my recording studio, and neither is it yours."

"Then whose is it?"

Yixing is getting impatient, and Yifan can't even blame him. He's really been beating around the bush.

"You must promise to not freak out, and to let me explain everything."

"Yifan, you're scaring me a little."

"Just promise."

"Okay, I promise. Now tell me."

Yifan inhales deeply, before his lips draw into a small, crooked smile. "I don't know if you've read that part of your diary yet but you've been working on new demo songs the last few months and you finished a set of five so far. And they're good, they're really good. I know you don't tend to believe me when I say so but they really are. So I called in a favour from a friend to get to an email address where I could send them to."

"Are you trying to say...?" Yixing's voice trails off into silence when Yifan raises his hand to silence him, indicating that his explanation is not done yet.

"And they loved your songs. I've been talking with them for the last few weeks and they want to produce them, so we're supposed to head over to their studio today to sort out the details and perhaps do some pre-recordings. If you're okay with it, that is. They know that I organised this as a surprise for you, so if you want to back out of this, you can."

"Yifan, _whose studio is it_?"

"JJ Lin's."

The reaction to his words is instantaneous. Yixing's hands break from his hold and fly up to cover the younger’s mouth in shock instead while his eyes widen almost comically. "What?" Yixing croaks, as if all air has been driven from his lungs. He goes from gaping to stuttering, then back to gaping again.

"It's JJ Lin's studio. I sent him your demo songs and he loved them. I told him that you're a big fan of his," Yifan elaborates. "After we'd already gotten talking about producing them, that is. In my first mail I only wrote that you're an aspiring songwriter and that I want to get an opinion on your work."

"JJ Lin," Yixing whispers, his hands lowering slowly to rest in balled fists on his thighs. The younger seems stunned by the revelation, talking to himself more than anything else when he continues, "JJ Lin liked my songs."

Even though Yifan knows it's not a question directed at him, he nods slowly. "He does, and he's looking forward to meeting you."

"I'm going to meet JJ Lin," Yixing repeats, almost like a broken record, and Yifan slowly starts getting worried whether he overwhelmed the other too much. "I'm going to _meet JJ Lin!"_

The second time it's said with a lot more conviction, as if Yixing only then realizes the meaning of the words and Yifan feels his breathing come easier and his heartbeat pick up when Yixing's eyes light up. Yet his relief is short-lived since all of a sudden, Yixing's expression grows guarded and he tenses up a little. The younger looks strangely as if he's preparing himself for a physical blow when he next opens his mouth and the sight makes something twist uncomfortably in Yifan's stomach.

"Is this...?" Yixing's voice fades into silence, his expression contorts ever so slightly with disgust of the word he can't bring himself to voice, as if it tastes bitter on his tongue when he swallows it down instead of saying it. But Yifan knows exactly how the question continues. _Is this charity? Is this because he knows about my condition and feels bad for me?_

Gently, Yifan picks up Yixing's hands from where they have been resting on the younger's thighs. He unfurls the other's balled fists so that he can thread their fingers together and he catches Yixing's gaze before smiling slightly. Yixing looks so torn, so anxious.

"He doesn't know."

Yixing's physical response is instant, the tension of his shoulders draining with the shaky exhale the younger releases. "He doesn't?"

Once again, Yifan shakes his head to reaffirm his statement. "He doesn't. And if you don't want him to know, I promise we'll find ways to ensure that he won't find out."

Yixing swallows before his mouth starts moving, but no sounds come out, as if he is trying to pick words from the thin air around them but simply can’t find any. Eventually he gives up, and in lieu of a verbal response, he squeezes Yifan's hands with his. The tight nervousness that had been constricting Yifan ribcage is suddenly gone when he sees the emotions swirling in Yixing's eyes.

The next second, Yixing has lurched from his seat and slung his arms around Yifan's shoulders, pressing his nose against the elder's neck. His inhale is shaky, but his exhale is smooth as his fingertips press into the fabric of Yifan's sweater.

"I love you." is what he says, and Yifan is certain his face must split in half from how widely he is grinning. Uncaring that they are in a semi-public setting, Yifan winds his own arms around the younger's body, one hand against Yixing's shoulder blades while the other rests against the small of his back. He presses a kiss against the side of Yixing's head. The responding chuckle brushes in soft gusts of air against his skin.

They remain like this for a few seconds, before Yixing tightens his grip imperceptibly as a sign that he's about to withdraw from the embrace. Yifan releases his hold and Yixing settles back in his seat, immediately grabbing the other's hands again as if they are his lifeline. Only then does the reality of the situation properly seem to sink in with the younger. For a heartbeat, Yixing looks calm, then his eyes widen. "Oh my _god I'm going to meet JJ Lin! Yifan! I'm going to meet JJ Lin!"_

All Yifan can do is laugh as his husband descends into a bout of fanboying. Lifting the other's hands, he leaves small kisses along Yixing's knuckles. "Yes, yes you are."

__

Yixing is nervous. It's clear as day to Yifan and part of him wants to coo at how cute the younger is when he's fidgeting and biting his lower lip, but the supportive-husband-part in him is stronger. He reaches for Yixing's hand and holds it in a gesture of reassurance and encouragement; and in order to stop the other from biting his nails the way he usually does when nerves overwhelm him. Yixing's palm is slightly clammy and while Yifan knows that the other's anxiousness stems not only from apprehension but also from pleasant anticipation, he wishes there was more he could do to calm the other. Yixing is going to meet his idol, the person whose music he has been listening to since he was young, and Yifan can only imagine how nerve-wracking it must be.

His reassuring touch is met with a grateful smile, even though it immediately falters as soon as Yixing turns his gaze back towards the wooden door inlaid with a milky glass panel. It looks startlingly nondescript for what lays beyond but Yifan reasons that that's probably the goal. They are standing right in front of JJ Lin's production studio, and even though Yifan has been there before, it feels a lot more nerve-wrecking with Yixing by his side, as if his husband's nervousness filters right into him.

They stayed in the restaurant for almost an hour after their dessert was finished, talking everything through over coffee. Yifan had packed Yixing's laptop and hard drive without the younger's knowledge, so that the other would be able to go through the songs again he had composed for JJ Lin. Only as soon as Yixing declared that he was ready—or rather, as ready as he'd ever be—did Yifan text the musician to inform him that they'd be over in half an hour.

As Yifan expected, the younger had decided against letting his idol know of his condition. For now. There would still be time to tell JJ Lin later on, once they'd have gotten to know each other better. Yixing takes a lot of pride in having his work speak for itself, and Yifan knows that he wouldn't ever want his amnesia to overshadow or influence his idol's perception of him.

"Ready?" Yifan asks in a whisper and Yixing swallows once before nodding.

The elder squeezes his husband’s hand once more, and with another shaky yet excited smile back at Yifan, Yixing steps forward slightly to rap his knuckles against the wooden door.

The musician answers within seconds, as if he was waiting on the other side of the door for them to finally gather their courage. For Yifan, it's the second meeting, so he and JJ Lin exchange quick pleasantries before the latter turns towards Yixing.

"So, you're the genius who's behind those songs."

For a second, Yixing is frozen in place, too shocked to be faced with the man he'd watched on television and listened to on the radio for years, but a gentle nudge from Yifan sends him moving.

"I'm Zhang Yixing. It's such an honour to meet you, _shifu_." Instead of offering his hand like Yifan did, Yixing takes a small step back so that he can bow properly. It draws an amiable laugh from the older man.

"The pleasure is all mine. And no need to be so formal, just call me JJ."

A light blush is dusting Yixing's cheeks when he looks up again, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, JJ ge."

__

All the way back to their apartment, Yixing is glowing beside Yifan. He's dazed to the point where he would have missed their stop if he had been by himself. Yifan is also pretty certain that the smaller male would have ended up aimlessly wandering the streets, too lost in his own mind to care about finding his way home. He holds onto Yifan tightly however, as if the taller man is his anchor. It's Yixing’s way of sharing his exhilaration. Every now and then he turns towards his husband, and whenever their gazes meet, Yixing's lips stretch into a grin, followed by a disbelieving: "I met JJ Lin. I'm producing a song for JJ Lin, together with JJ Lin."

"Yes you are," Yifan always replies, and since neither of them are the type for getting overly affectionate in public—as long as they're both sober, that is—he squeezes Yixing's hand to convey how proud he is of his husband.

There is not much conversation between them for the 45 minute travel it takes them to get to their place but neither does Yifan mind, nor is he surprised. He gave Yixing little to no chance to mentally prepare for the situation, effectively blindsiding him, so it’s to be expected that he needs time to process everything now. Yifan is just happy that JJ Lin and Yixing got along as well as they did. The beginning of the meeting had been strongly coined by Yixing's nervousness but Yifan already discovered how surprisingly approachable the artist is despite his status, and eventually Yixing's jitters had faded. Instead the enthusiasm had surfaced that always left Yifan in awe, the sparkling in Yixing’s eyes as soon as he got to speak about music.

The meeting had been intended to only be a first gathering to get to know each other better and discuss some details of their collaboration, the most important part being whether Yixing was okay with it in the first place. Somehow it had ended up turning into an impromptu test recording session however; Yixing being both shy and incredibly eager about standing side by side with JJ Lin while one of his own compositions was playing in the background. After managing the initial introductions and a tiny bit of mediating, Yifan had not much to do the afternoon aside from sitting on a comfortable couch and watching his husband work his magic.

The happiness and excitement radiating from the smaller is palpable, a clear indicator for Yifan that his surprise was a success and as soon as their apartment door closes behind them, he has his arms full of Yixing. The younger eagerly presses himself into Yifan's personal space, his hands grabbing tightly onto the lapels of the elder's jacket to give him leverage as he tiptoes to kiss Yifan.

Yixing always claims that he's not good at expressing himself. Yifan never really understood why the other would say so when he is definitely not bad with words. Yifan often witnesses Yixing being unfailingly witty, leaving him and other parties present speechless until the younger’s chuckling laughter breaks the silence.

It took Yifan a while to realize that that's not what Yixing is referring to when he calls himself ineloquent. Rather it is about expressing everything that is close to his heart, his emotions, thoughts, worries. No matter how well Yixing might be able to wield proverbs and come up with quick comebacks, his feelings seem to be too profound and difficult for him to summarize and he often struggles with finding the right words to express them. It's why the younger is drawn to music, because even if words don’t suffice in getting his feelings across, he can manage to embody them through his compositions. Yifan, having had a penchant for taciturnity ever since his childhood, couldn't mind less that the other often uses gestures and not speech to express himself.

 _Thank you_ , Yixing's kisses read, and even though Yifan wants to kiss back, he can't help smiling against the other's lips as Yixing's gratefulness and joy flood all of his senses. His head tilts automatically to accommodate the younger’s angle and he leans down slightly to take the strain from his husband. His hands find their familiar position on Yixing's waist and the fabric of Yixing's jacket crinkles underneath his hold. Nonetheless he pulls the smaller body towards himself, trying to bring the other as close as the layers of fabric between them allow.

Yixing eagerly heeds Yifan's guidance, his own hands wandering up to thread into the other's silver hair. He tugs on the strands gently, eliciting a soft gasp from Yifan that gives the younger the chance to slip his tongue past the Yifan’s lips. It's effective in dimming down the smile on Yifan's face as the taller man has no choice but to properly engage Yixing in an attempt to stand his ground. Though honestly it is less of a battle, and more of a dance. Everything is always rhythmic with Yixing, music flowing through his veins and infusing every move of his with the notion that his body is following invisible melodies. Yifan has long since learned how to follow the other's lead, and even with his stumbling understanding of measure he can keep up with the younger's impromptu choreography.

His hold on Yixing's hips start wandering, fingertips gliding along the other's body as if it's the first and the last time Yifan gets to touch the other so he's trying to memorize every detail of Yixing. It's natural, the way his hands slip underneath Yixing's jacket and he lets out a frustrated whine when instead of skin he touches broadcloth. Yixing chuckles slightly at Yifan's misery, the sound quickly replaced by a content sigh when the elder untucks the shirt from Yixing’s pants so that he can trace the faint lines of Yixing's abs. The smaller's skin is hot to the touch, and it makes Yifan realize how uncomfortably warm their jackets are in their heated apartment, the effect elevated by the way arousal is rushing blood through their veins faster than usual.

Yixing, however, doesn't really seem to care, arching his back to push himself closer to Yifan with a low whine instead of making a move to part so that they can get rid of some very superfluous clothing. It's a little startling, considering that the younger is the one who always wears clothes fit for a weather that's at least 15 degrees warmer than what the thermometer actually displays. But Yifan doesn't question, simply takes whatever the younger is willing to give him. It's a natural continuation, the way their kisses ebb and flow. Eventually Yixing pulls away slightly and his gaze immediately locks with Yifan's as a gentle smile spread across his face, his kiss-swollen lips shining sinfully with saliva. Delicate fingers stroke along Yifan's scalp in a caress, and if Yixing's eyes weren't so captivating, Yifan would most likely have closed his own to savour the sensation. As it is, however, he's unable to tear his gaze away from his husband’s. The heat of their kisses seems almost forgotten under the tenderness of Yixing's expression—almost. Yifan still has his hands splayed against Yixing's waist, rubbing patterns into the soft skin while moving continuously lower, until the tips of his fingers dart beneath the waistband of Yixing's pants.

The younger looks intrigued for a split second, the hint of a smirk forming on his lips when suddenly a low buzzing disrupts the silence of the hallway. Yixing fumbles to get his phone out of his pants pocket, and the moment he sees the screen, his eyes widen suddenly and his mouth opens slightly. After silencing the alarm, he leans up to press a kiss against Yifan's lips that’s way too chaste to reflect their former exchange, and the next second he's expertly extracting himself from his husband’s hold. Too startled by the abrupt change in atmosphere, Yifan doesn't even realize what's going on until Yixing is already halfway down the hallway to their bedroom. The younger shouts back at Yifan how he's forbidden from following after him, and the next thing he knows, the door to their bedroom has been shut.

Baffled, Yifan remains rooted to the spot for a few moments, trying to figure out why exactly the only thing he feels against his front is cool air and no hot, firm body anymore. With his blood having more important places to be than his brain at the moment, it takes Yifan longer than usual to puzzle out that the expression on Yixing's face right before he rushed to their room was the one the younger always wears when he remembers a task that still needs to be completed. A glance at his watch tells Yifan that it's edging towards six o'clock already, the sun having long set. Given the way Yixing locked him out of their shared sleeping quarter instead of pulling him into it, Yifan reasons that the alarm must have been Yixing’s reminder write down the day’s most important events and thoughts of the day and update his memory lists. The younger always does so in private, and Yifan would never dare intrudes while Yixing has his diary out in the open.

Nonetheless, Yifan can't help cursing a little at how Yixing riled him up like this with kisses only to then disappear to write, but a small, fondly-exasperated smile lingers on the elder's lips because he knows exactly how volatile Yixing can be. He's half offended that Yixing can break away from their making out session so easily when Yifan was sure the smaller male was similarly affected by it, but Yixing has always been the "work first, pleasure second" type. There is no ill-intention with him, no matter how much of a tease he can be—both intentionally and unintentionally. It usually takes the younger at least half an hour to fill the pages of his diary, sometimes even twice as long as that, so Yifan rakes a hand through his hair and tries to will the arousal rushing through his veins away.

With few other options available, he trots into the kitchen. If Yixing is going to be occupied he might just as well get started with dinner preparations already. Since he already expected them to be back later than they'd be from ice skating on other Christmas Eve, Yifan urged the younger to have a dinner that doesn't require much time to cook. Yet it can never hurt to get the vegetables washed and the meat cut already.

While he walks in the direction of the cooking area he connects his phone to the bluetooth speakers they have installed in the kitchen and puts on the first Christmas playlist Spotify recommends him, letting quiet music fill the room. Their unusual afternoon activity threw him off the holiday mood a little, but jostling through the kitchen, pulling out cutting boards and plastic bowls while he sings along to Winter Wonderland brings Christmas Eve right back.

Yifan doesn't get very far with his dinner preparations, however. He has barely managed to take out the meat from the fridge and move the vegetables to the sink to give them a quick washing when suddenly he's joined by another presence. Yixing sidles up behind him, moving silently enough that Yifan, in his unalert state, doesn't notice him until there are deft hands worming their way underneath his sweater to rest against the warm skin of his hips. Plump lips press against his shoulder blade and Yixing uses the hold on Yifan's waist to draw their lower bodies together. After only just having calmed his arousal back down, the unexpected touches send a sharp spike of lust through Yifan's veins that has him reeling for a few heartbeats.

"What do you think you're doing there?" Yixing whispers against his scapula, his low voice sounding so alluring that Yifan involuntary shivers against the younger's hold, "I think you should put those back where you got them from. Come join me once you have."

And just like that, Yixing slinks away again, sauntering out of the kitchen and down the hallway in the direction of their bedroom with his hips swaying tantalisingly. Yifan remains frozen at first, still trying to make sense of both the younger's reappearance and his command. It doesn't fit their usual routine—there's no way Yixing finished his daily diary entry this quickly, which leaves Yifan clueless as for why he would be forbidden from entering their bedroom at first only to then be lured into it. Unless... unless Yixing had needed time by himself to prepare something.

Regardless of the fact that Yifan has no clue what that "something" might be, the mere idea of what his husband could be planning immediately sends his blood rushing south and effectively breaks him from his stupor. Suddenly he's stumbling through the kitchen to clear the ingredients away as quickly as possible so he can join Yixing in their bedroom. Haste doesn't exactly help his dexterity however, meaning that in his hurry to get the meat back in the fridge and all the vegetables out of the way, he drops half of them. It ends with him having to chase an escaping onion all the way to the other side of the room with a bitten back curse.

Yifan is halfway through the doorframe when he realizes the music is still playing. His body screams at him to just ignore it, the magnetic pull towards the bedroom, towards his husband overwhelming but his head wins out. It would be a useless waste of electricity, so with a heavy heart he darts towards where his phone resting on the breakfast bar, quickly severing the bluetooth connection. Within the next second, he's out of the room.

He doesn't slow down before he finally catches sight of Yixing. The younger has shed his jacket but aside from that he's still fully clothed. On first glance, Yifan can't detect any visible changes in the room itself. Before he can question exactly what the younger had been doing in here before calling Yifan to join him, however, Yixing notices his arrival. The next thing Yifan knows, the younger is tiptoeing, leaning his body against Yifan's for balance and joining his lips with Yifan's.

It's a deja-vu of when they stepped through the door of their apartment, only this time Yifan is reasonably sure that he won't have to busy himself with thoughts of peeling onions to calm down his forming erection. Well, unless whatever Yixing has in store is going to be too much for him to take, calling for a little self control so things aren't over too quickly. It wouldn't be the first time.

"What took you so long?" Yixing doesn't even pull away, instead pressing the words out in between kisses while his hands busy themselves with undoing Yifan's belt. The younger evidently doesn't plan on wasting any more time.

"Had to chase absconded vegetables," Yifan rushes out, and when he hears Yixing inhale in a telltale way he intercepts the other's question. "Don't ask."

Not wanting the give the younger a chance to disrupt the atmosphere again, Yifan instead gently prods against Yixing's lips with his tongue in a clear request to for entrance. At the same time his hands are reciprocating the other's efforts in getting them both naked as quickly as possible, popping the buttons of Yixing's shirt open as fast as his slightly shaky fingers are capable of.

Yixing chuckles softly against Yifan's lips, and the elder isn't quite sure whether that's in response to his statement about fugitive vegetables or his eagerness. The thought is wiped from Yifan's mind and declared as unimportant however when Yixing tilts his head to accommodate Yifan better, beckoning the elder's tongue into his mouth. Yixing still faintly tastes like the Christmas cookies they had been offered in JJ Lin's studio, mixed with the flavour that's distinctly _Yixing_. It's a heady sensation, that never fails to incite a fire inside Yifan that constantly calls for _more, more, more._

It's Yifan who's leading the kiss and Yixing melts against his body. He entices the taller male to lean down in chase of Yixing's lips when the younger lowers himself from his tiptoed stand to have his soles firmly planted to the ground. It's not necessarily the most comfortable position for Yifan, but he literally couldn't care less when Yixing finally pulls the zipper of his pants down to slip his hand in. Yifan is already half-hard, just from their kisses, and Yixing's fingers against his hot length send his senses haywire. An urgent groan breaks from his throat all on its own accord, and Yixing smirks against his lips.

It's all the warning Yifan gets before Yixing's tongue is pushing back, forcing Yifan's into retreat and just like that the younger takes over the control. He dominates their kiss, darting teasing touches over Yifan's cock at the same time. There's no pressure applied whatsoever, but just the sensation of Yixing's fingertips—slightly calloused from years of playing various instruments—tracing the protruding vein that runs along the bottom of his dick has Yifan's breath hitching as need clouds and heightens his senses at the same time.

Yifan's hands that had been working at undressing his husband tremble when they eventually have undone Yixing's button up and reach the other's waist—not the best prerequisite to battle the fastening of the younger's pants. But Yixing shows no signs of slowing down, so Yifan has no choice but to try his best to get the stubborn button-and-zipper lock undone in spite of the increased difficulty level.

With Yifan's attention torn between Yixing's hand in his boxers and his own task of finally getting a hold of the younger's dick, and Yixing focussed on teasing Yifan to full erection, their kisses start growing sloppier, until eventually Yixing breaks away. By instinct, Yifan chases after him, his lips throbbing slightly already but he still wants more. Yixing's mouth is back split-seconds later, only that he's nipping at Yifan's jaw this time, moving down further until he reaches the elder's throat. Yifan is still adjusting to the new stimulation when Yixing's second hand, the one that had been darting up and down along his spine, moves below the waistband of his pants and boxers and grabs hold of his ass.

A startled gasp falls from Yifan's lips—from surprise, not from disapproval. In lieu of a verbal answer, he leans down to nip at the younger's earlobe, revelling in how he can feel Yixing's body shudder beneath his fingertips when he moans lowly as a sign of his approval.

It's like a switch being flicked in Yixing, both of the younger's hands moving to hold Yifan's hips instead to guide the taller male until his legs hit the corner of their mattress. With both their frames still fully hung with—albeit undone—clothes, they part briefly to pull away all the layers covering their burning skin. It's a hasty, not exactly graceful process, fuelled by both their arousal. Their boxers are discarded along with their shirts and pants, and the next thing Yifan knows, he's resting against the pillows with Yixing hovering above him, lips joined again. Yifan rests one hand against the small of Yixing's back while the other dwells between Yixing's shoulder blades, and he uses the leverage to pull the younger's body down to rest on top of his. Their bodies align seamlessly with one another as Yixing pliantly follows Yifan's beckoning, fitting himself between Yifan's spread legs. The shift in position brings their groins together, and Yifan's breathing hitches when their erections brush against each other. Years of passionate dancing have not only given Yixing a perfectly defined body, they have also given him very good control over what appears to be every single muscle within it.

The younger is always in motion, and his every move crashes over Yifan like a wave against the shore. Both their breathing goes in harsh pants by now, making it harder to kiss properly with their need for oxygen, and Yixing's hips rolling incessantly against Yifan's create sensations that make the elder fear for his sanity. His mind is wiped clean of everything save Yixing, the smooth glide of Yixing's skin beneath his hands, Yixing's mouth lapping against his collarbones as the younger shifts slightly lower. Just by the way his moans change in pitch Yixing is able to tell that he's pushing Yifan too close to the edge, and he adjusts by ceasing the movement of his hips in order to lessen the friction. With Yixing's expert mouth tracing patterns over his chest and the younger's nimble fingers ghosting up and down Yifan's sides, the stilled hips are about as effective as a drop of water to cool down hot asphalt.

"Yi-Yixing," he gasps out, and it sounds just like a sign of approval but Yixing understands it as a call for his attention. Instead of stopping his ministrations, however, the younger just hums against Yifan's skin to show that he's listening. And as much as Yifan wants to let his husband do as he pleases, his hands urge the other to crawl back up until they are face to face again.

Yixing's face is flushed, and his naturally plump lips are swollen even further from their kisses. It's a sight to behold, and a rough sound rips from Yifan's chest. The younger looks like temptation personified, with his dishevelled hair and his lust-blown pupils, and even though Yifan had wanted to caution Yixing that he should not drag things out much longer or Yifan can't promise he'll last, the words simply evaporate on his tongue. Instead he cards his fingers into Yixing's dark-brown hair and tugs the other down to mould their lips together in an open mouthed kiss. He registers Yixing's soft sighs, almost out of place for its gentleness when they both are so painfully aroused and their movements were infused with desperation just moments prior, but the sounds send Yifan's heart fluttering inside his chest.

Seconds later, Yixing kisses him back with a newfound hunger however, and the lust igniting Yifan's veins scatters all thoughts about slowing things down. On the opposite, he _needs_ Yixing, desperately, and he lets his husband know through low whines when Yixing's hands don't start reaching for the lube and condoms resting on their nightstand. It's a sound so filled with desire that he feels Yixing smirk slightly against his lips before heeding the other's wordless plea. Letting go of Yixing's lips is difficult, and Yifan barely catches the discontent grumble. It's for a greater cause, he tells himself, and spreads his legs further to accommodate the younger.

Yixing enjoys the process of getting stretched, having Yifan's fingers move in and out of him at a languid pace while one after another is added. Yifan doesn't exactly consider himself blessed with great dexterity, his hands big but lacking Yixing's elegance of movement, yet the smaller male always urges him on with encouraging moans. He tends to gush over how amazing Yifan's fingers make him feel when they explore Yixing's insides, only to finally graze against his prostate. Yifan, however, finds little pleasure to be derived from the act of being stretched. It's not about Yixing's lacking ability or delicate hands, it's simply that for Yifan, the whole thing is  barely more than an annoying, mostly uncomfortable hindrance standing in the way of what he's actually longing for.

So when Yixing settles between his legs, he lets his fingers dance along the inside of Yifan's thighs, following a trail from slightly below mid-thigh up to his pelvis and back down, applying more pressure as he gently urges the elder's legs the slightest bit further apart still. Then he leans down to follow the trail of his fingers with his tongue. Another shiver wrecks through Yifan, his breath catching in his throat in anticipation but the sensation disappears right before his hip joint. Yixing evidently doesn't plan on sucking him off, the way he's moved to nibbling at the sensitive skin of Yifan's inner thigh is meant to provide a distraction. It's difficult to tell whether it's effective or not, because Yifan thinks he's too far gone to need much distracting either way. Nonetheless he’s grateful when Yixing doesn't drag things out. Just because Yifan doesn't enjoy the process of stretching also doesn't mean that he requires Yixing to take it slow. If anything he welcomes that Yixing works fast and efficiently in working the elder open with precise, well-practiced movements.

Yifan's slightly dulled down arousal returns full force at the sight of Yixing finally rolling on the condom. The younger's eyes flutter shut momentarily as he quickly spreads lube over his cock. Even from where he's lying amongst the pillows Yifan can tell how the other's throat vibrates with a low, appreciative moan. Yixing's erection—much like Yifan's—hasn't gotten much attention yet, but instead of letting himself be tempted by the touch of his own hand, the younger quickly shuffles into position between Yifan's legs. His left hand searches for Yifan's so he can entwine their fingers while he guides himself into Yifan with the right one.

The push in is calculated, slow, but not torturously so. Yixing is well endowed for his size, and Yifan can't help the way his face scrunches up slightly at the stretch that's undeniably different from fingers scissoring his entrance. There's no pain, Yixing has made sure to prepare him well enough, but it's uncomfortable. It reminds Yifan that is has been a while since he last bottomed.

Taking note of Yifan's discomfort, Yixing squeezes the elder's hand slightly while the other, now free one, goes back to it's tasks of dancing up and down Yifan's thighs, only that this time he moves all the way down to Yifan's knees and doesn't stop at the waist when coming back up. Combined with the slow rocking motion of Yixing's hips, Yifan manages to relax enough around the other's length that Yixing can push all the way in. He stills there for a moment, letting Yifan catch his laboured breath. Not for long, however, then he pulls out a little, only to thrust back in right after.

A low moan of approval escapes Yifan, the drag of Yixing's cock against his walls sending sparks of arousal through his veins. Encouraged by the sound, Yixing increases his movements step by step, until the flared head of his cock catches at Yifan's rim. The sensation prompts a shiver to run through Yifan and he gasps while his walls beckon Yixing back inside with their incessant clenching. The younger immediately heads the call and pushes in again.

Yixing rolls his hips against Yifan's ass, the motion fluid yet precise, clearly working his way up to stimulating Yifan's prostate until a single brush of Yixing's cock against it will make Yifan cry out in pleasure. Nothing of the hurried frenzy of both of them chasing their release can be read in his actions and it makes Yifan worry that the younger is too unaffected by their activities, if he's still so perfectly in control over his every movement.

His mind slightly clouded from lust, Yifan studies his husband for the first time since the younger started stretching him, and he sees the concentration etched into Yixing's features. The younger's gaze is fixed down at where their bodies are joined, and for a second Yifan feels jealous—it's a sight he'd love to behold himself—but then he reminds himself to stay focussed; not the easiest task with the way Yixing manages to angle his thrust _just right._ Yifan's hand grips the sheets a bit tighter as he lets out a shuddering moan.

"Yixing," his voice is deep and rough around the edges, and with satisfaction Yifan notes how the sound of it makes Yixing shudder.

The younger's eyes dart up at him, and some of the tension visibly melts from him. Yifan opens his mouth to continue, even though he's not even sure what he's going to say in the first place. He doesn't get the chance to even try, however, since Yixing leans down and pushes all the words right back into Yifan's throat. There should be lust fuelling their kisses, spurring on the incessant grinding of their hips but instead they get lost in the familiar taste of each other's lips as Yixing rests buried inside Yifan.

When they part, Yixing pulls back enough that he can study Yifan, and there is a softness in his eyes as he regards the elder that Yifan is sure he will never get used to. A small smile forms on his lips, and Yifan automatically mirrors the expression, squeezing their still joined hands affectionately. For a few heartbeats, they just look at each other, and Yifan's chest constricts with all the emotions swirling right between them. Yixing looks so ethereal, the slight sheen of sweat giving a shine to his skin and matting his hair to his forehead, his chest heaving with his irregular breathing. It draws Yifan’s attention to the ring dangling around Yixing’s neck, accentuated by the other's golden skin.

Yifan reaches out with his free hand, the metal band clinking quietly against the one wrapped around his own ring finger. A wave of pure awe washes over Yifan, that he's actually married, to Yixing. Even more than a year after they tied the knot, it still catches the elder off guard at times. Yixing's weight shifts above him, and then another, smaller hand wraps around his, guiding both of them up until soft lips press against Yifan's skin. It's a gesture so tender, so gentle, yet something about the look in Yixing's eyes as he watches Yifan reignites the fire in the elder’s veins that had settled down to a low simmering right beneath the surface. Perhaps it's the determination that suddenly flashes through Yixing’s expression.

The younger starts moving again with purpose, exploiting his powerful hips by grinding them against Yifan's ass and his mouth falls open in a deep moan. They are both forced to let go of Yixing's wedding ring, for fear that one accidental, jerky movement might end up tearing the delicate necklace. Instead, Yixing's hand lands on the mattress next to Yifan's head while Yifan grasps at Yixing's waist, squeezing with every well-timed thrust. Knowing that the walls in their apartment aren't exactly the thickest or most soundproof, Yifan tries to keep his moans suppressed the best he can.

Yixing, evidently, sees that as a challenge, as the smirk suddenly blooming on his face attests to. He shuffles so he can sit up on his shins, the new position freeing his hands. But instead of picking up his pace again, Yixing lets his fingers dance over the inside of Yifan's thighs before grabbing his legs and lifting them. With his rather slender built, the younger's strength comes as a surprise to some but naked like this his muscles are on blatant display, so Yifan's gasp is not exactly one of surprise at his legs being moved all of a sudden, but rather stems from the fact that the motion makes Yixing's cock rub against his prostate. With Yifan's legs over his shoulders, Yixing leans back down until he can brace himself against the mattress, effectively folding Yifan in half.

The new angle gives his thrusts more power, allowing him to reach deeper inside Yifan and the elder struggles for breath for a moment as the younger continuously brushes against his prostate. His own erection has been pretty much neglected ever since Yixing's darting touches, and Yifan's fingers ache with the need to wrap them around his member in the hope of granting himself some relief. He doesn't get the chance to do so, however, since Yixing once again decides to change things up. The shift is subtle, at first, a head turned a little, lips pressed against the upper part of Yifan's calf. It's pleasant, but the sensation easily gets overshadowed by the snapping of Yixing's hips. Then, however, Yixing's mouth moves down along his leg. The younger leans back a bit, his hands braced against Yifan's legs as if he intends to fold Yifan's body even further. But instead of pushing down, he uses the hold only to secure his position as his tongue darts out to lick along the back of Yifan's knee.

The elder jolts in surprise, both at the action and at the sharp spike of arousal the sensation sends through his veins, his pulse picking up as Yixing repeats the action, nibbling at the evidently sensitive flesh. And suddenly there is no holding back the noises caught in his throat anymore, a desperate keen breaking from his mouth. Yixing's grip is tight enough to hold him in place, giving him little room to move while the younger keeps moving his hips at a consistent pace. The moans are Yifan’s only outlet, together with his hands trying to take hold of whatever he can reach. Twisting them in the sheets would be the most obvious choice, but even with Yixing buried deep inside him Yifan craves more contact, so he grips the other's waist, so tight that his fingers must be digging into the other's skin. In the back of his mind he worries about leaving bruises but he's unable to even fully formulate the thought under Yixing's ministrations.

His senses are overwhelmed with the way Yixing's nipping at back of his knee, abusing the tender flesh there while at the same time grinding his cock against Yifan's prostate in a steady rhythm. The high pitched whine that resounds from the walls is uncharacteristic of Yifan but his body is refusing to cooperate with him. His back arches off the mattress as if to bring him closer to his husband. Yixing uses his left hand to graze his thumb over the joint that's not occupied by his mouth and suddenly Yifan is gasping, a broken moan trying to take the shape of Yixing's name but failing miserably as Yifan cums between them, untouched.

His vision whites out around the edges, and he shudders helplessly through his high, his walls clenching to beckon his husband to release inside of him. The younger's thrusts stutter, as does his breathing, but he manages to keep his movements steads to help Yifan ride out his orgasm. Yet he's visibly struggling, his hot breath ghosting against Yifan's wet skin and Yifan doesn't want the younger to hold back. So his hands glide up Yixing's spine until he can take hold of Yixing's nape, drawing circles with his thumb against the younger's sensitive skin before pulling Yixing down.

"Come," he whispers right next to Yixing’s ear, and it is the last straw for the younger. With a groan, Yixing does as he's told and Yifan moans softly when he feels the other's hot release within him.

They both try to catch their breath after Yixing has pulled out, tying off the condom and throwing it into the bin right next to their bed. Yifan's chest is sticky with his own release but Yixing doesn't hesitate a second before sprawling himself over the other and leaning up so he can plant a soft kiss against Yifan's lips.

It's sloppy, barely more than a peck since they both do not have enough oxygen again just yet that they can waste some on kisses. Instead, Yixing settles against Yifan's chest, resting his head on his crossed arms as he watches Yifan slowly come down from his orgasmic high. The elder's hands automatically come to rest against Yixing's back as he swallows in an attempt to wet his dry throat.

"Wow." Yixing's concurring hum vibrates against Yifan's ribcage, and he tries to find better words to sum up what just happened, but in the end all he can come up is, "That was... wow."

"So you really do like that, huh?" Yixing says, sounding half smug and half as if he made a very important discovery, prompting Yifan to properly study his husband's features.

"You knew?" He asks, forehead scrunched up in confusion. Even he himself wasn't aware that the back of his knees would be this sensitive, so the fact that Yixing went for his unknown weak spot with such precision should have surprised him but his mind was too occupied with the assault of everything Yixing to have noticed how the oddness. " _How_?"

"Well, I wasn't one hundred percent sure. It must have been a few weeks ago, perhaps a month or two, when I accidentally brushed my feet against the back of your knees while you were fucking me," the younger starts explaining, his completely innocent expression contrasting the lewdness of his words, "and you made that sound, that low growl in the back of your throat," Yixing's voice drops a few tones deeper, his hand coming up to gently trace along Yifan's trachea as if he can still feel the sound like that. "But I haven't had the chance before today to test whether it was actually the touch that caused it or not." A small smirk stretches across his lips. "Guess I can mark that one as confirmed now."

"You discovered it a few weeks ago?"

Yixing looks back at him questioningly, as if he doesn't quite understand why that part of the statement would confuse Yifan as much as it does, prompting Yifan to elaborate.

"But how did you…?" Yifan stops himself mid sentence when he realises that there is only one possibility, "Did you write that down? That the back of my knees are sensitive?"

"Yeah...?" For a moment, Yixing looks at him as if he isn't quite sure why Yifan would ask something so obvious, but then his eyes widen in sudden realisation. "Wait, you don’t know? That I have a list about you?"

At first Yifan just gapes at his husband, his mouth opening and closing, his brain still slightly fuzzy from the rush of endorphins. Then he blurts out, "No, I didn’t," and follows it by a confused, "...You have a list for me?"

In hindsight, Yifan understands why Yixing does look slightly affronted by his evident disbelief. "Of course I do!" the younger exclaims softly, "How could I not? And no, it's not just a list about what turns you on or off, that's just one section of it. There's other stuff as well, like that you don't like eating cauliflower, but you're crazy for broccoli, or that you want a new tattoo but are torn over what to get and where to put it."

Yifan remembers the cauliflower incident when they went to visit his mother for her 50th birthday a year ago. Yixing had watched with great fascination as Yifan filled up his plate with the green vegetable while avoiding the white one at all costs. And the tattoo had been mentioned a lot of times over the last few weeks, mainly whenever he was browsing the internet  in hopes of finding inspiration and had asked for Yixing's opinion. He just never thought that those things would be of enough significance for Yixing to write them down. He voices exactly that.

For some reason, Yixing's expression softens in response, as if Yifan said something very silly but endearing. There's a faint sense of melancholy to the small smile on his face. Without his own accord, Yifan's hands hold the younger male a bit tighter while gently stroking over his skin in an instinctive wish to comfort. Yixing's eyes fall close as he produces a sound that almost sounds like a purr in appreciation.

"How could it be insignificant if it's about you?" Yixing's voice is low, gentle, not as if he's whispering or sharing a secret but as if he doesn't want to disrupt the serene atmosphere that's built up around them. "Those might be small things, but they are what makes you _you_. No matter how much time you spend with a person, you'll always discover something new about them.

"Also you will change, inevitably, and I don't want you to grow apart from me. I don't want you to wake up in five, ten, fifteen years and be stuck with someone at your side who doesn't even really know you anymore when they're supposed to be the one who knows you best. And not just for you. I want to know what you like and don't like, I want to know if your opinions or interests change over time. I want to know the current Yifan, not be forever stuck at the one you used to be with 23. So even if my memory should not cooperate with me, I'll find ways to keep learning about you. Because I won't give up the privilege of continuously getting to know you better just like that."

There are too many feelings swirling in Yifan's chest but the one that ends up making it to the surface is an overwhelming fondness. He wants to express how he's sorry for never noticing Yixing had those worries, and that he's in awe how with all the shitty things happening to the younger, he still always finds ways to persevere. Even more than that, Yifan wants to let Yixing know how his heart inevitably startles in his chest when the other mentions them being together in fifteen years without even batting an eye at it. They might be married and have promised each other the rest of their lives but there's something about the definitive way with which Yixing says it that has Yifan pull his husband up so he can seal their lips together. It's not only Yixing who sometimes has to resort to actions when he finds his vocabulary falling short.

Yifan can feel the gentle stretch of Yixing's smile as the younger he drinks up all the affection poured into the press of their mouths, but with Yifan's hand stroking over the soft hairs at his nape, Yixing quickly moves to reciprocating with an equal amount of fervour.

Their kisses start out languid, both of them still relaxed from their release and just enjoying each other's presence. It's difficult to tell who caused the change, but after a while Yifan finds himself with Yixing's tongue exploring the inside of his mouth, the younger having shifted so that he's properly straddling Yifan. The position allows him to roll his hips against Yifan's crotch, the taller male already half hard again as their kisses have grown more heated. His hands that had been stroking up and down Yixing's back, following the curve of his spine, glide down to settle against Yixing's ass instead. When he squeezes once, Yixing breaks away from their kiss to lean forward until his mouth is hovering right next to Yifan's ear.

" _Yes,_ Yifan," he breathes, his voice low and raspy as he grinds back against Yifan's hands, " _Please."_

The words work like a trigger, and Yifan turns his head to capture Yixing's lips while he blindly feels around the nightstand for where he's sure the other left the lube as Yixing continues breaking their kiss to whisper filthy things, repeating how much he's been wanting to ride the elder and Yifan almost howls in success when his shaky fingers finally find what he’s been looking for. Yixing just grins as he moves to nip at Yifan's jawline.

__

Yifan is half tempted to simply let the evening end like this, in bed with Yixing lying atop his chest. Their breathing has finally evened out again and the younger, completely exhausted, is resting his head against Yifan's pectorals. Even though short naps have no impact on Yixing's memory, the younger has developed an aversion against them, so he is dozing without really sleeping. Yifan himself has his eyes open to study Yixing, raking his fingers through the other's hair every now and then to elicit one of those content purrs he loves hearing so much.

The silence is broken by the low buzzing on their nightstand, and Yifan turns slightly to see the screen of Yixing's phone light up. The younger groans in disapproval when Yifan reaches out to silence it, the motion rustling the smaller male. A fond smile stretches across Yifan's lips when he picks up the phone, a picture of their wedding greeting him once he has switched off the alarm that is supposed to remind Yixing that they need to get started with dinner. Yifan was sceptical at first when Yixing changed his phone's lockscreen to the picture taken of the two of them during the first dance at their wedding, considering that there’s a high chance of Yixing looking at his phone first thing in the morning when he still doesn't know that they are already married. But Yixing insisted that he doesn't care, that especially since he doesn't remember their wedding he wants to look at the reminder of it as often as he can.

Yixing, completely ignorant of the fact that his phone's alarm went off, ignores Yifan's soft calls for his attention and whines about how he wants to rest a bit more when the elder notes that they should get started with cooking soon. It's virtually impossible for Yifan to resist Yixing's pout, but one glance at the clock on Yixing's phone tells him that they really need to get going. Unable to bring himself to force Yixing to get up when the smaller male is so obviously exhausted, Yifan decides to choose the way of least resistance and simply picks his husband up. Yixing let's out a startled yelp when he's suddenly lifted off the bed, instinctively clinging to the elder’s shoulders.

"What are you doing, Yifan?" he demands to know, eyes wide.

"Well, you wouldn't get up yourself," the elder explains as he carries his husband through their flat, depositing him on the kitchen counter once they arrive, "so you can rest some more while I already get started with cooking."

Of course he could have simply left Yixing behind in their bedroom as he starts preparing the ingredients for their dinner, but he doesn't want to be apart from the younger. His phone is still resting on the breakfast bar, and after he has reconnected it with the bluetooth speakers, the Christmas playlist continues right where he left it.

Even though he told Yixing to rest, the smaller male is unable to sit still when he sees Yifan bustle through the kitchen, so soon enough they are moving in tandem as they cut vegetables and stir fry meat. No matter how much Yifan enjoyed their bedroom intermezzo, preparing Christmas dinner together with Yixing is always one of Yifan's favourite parts about Christmas Eve. They bump their shoulders and hips when they stand next to each other and steal kisses whenever they offer the other one a bite to sample the taste, and they crowd each other's personal spaces when one is blocking off the cupboard the other needs to reach. By the time they've carried the dishes over to their set dining table, every trace of exhaustion has been replaced by a silent thrum of contentment.

__

The smell of coffee hangs in the air as the first rays of sun peek in through the curtains. Yifan has settled in his usual spot at their kitchen table, sleep clinging to his eyes. But the elder doesn't really mind, enjoying the tranquility of the early morning. He has already put a tray of cookies in the oven, the ready-made dough tasting almost as good as if they are baking them from scratch. Their sweet scent is slowly starting to mingle with the bitter aroma of his coffee, and together with the pinch of cinnamon he mixed into his milk that morning, Yifan can literally taste Christmas.

Through the doorway that connects their kitchen with their living room he has a perfect view of their Christmas tree, all decorated in red and gold, with the odd trinkets here and there that Yixing tends to pick up every year in the run up to Christmas. They have stacked the presents underneath, together with the packages that arrived from relatives and friends. It's not exactly a big pile, but that never mattered to either of them. Suddenly his train of thoughts gets interrupted by a muffled shriek from the direction of their bedroom.

The next thing he knows, Yixing is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, staring at Yifan with wide eyes. His hair is sticking in every direction and he hasn't even bothered putting on a shirt, the imprint of the pillow still visible across his cheek.

"I'm working with JJ Lin?" Yixing lifts his hand, and only then does Yifan notice the telltale dark-blue binding of Yixing's diary. "It says here that I'm working with JJ Lin. Is that a joke, Yifan? Is this for real?"

Disbelief is clearly painted across Yixing's features and Yifan can't help but find it absolutely endearing. His lips spread into a grin as he nods. "Merry Christmas, _baobei_."  


**Author's Note:**

> I only belatedly realized that the prompt called for them being boyfriends, I hope it's okay I went ahead and made them husbands instead.


End file.
